Revelation and Reflections
by Jacqueline Land
Summary: Reactions of various people surrounding the Digidestined after the end of ZeroOne. Chapter 2, Yamato-centric, is now up. =D
1. Chapter 1 ::Hopes and Dreams and Memorie...

Author's Notes: Wow! Something new! Not three-month-old new, but brand-spanking new! Finished this about three seconds ago! Erm...This is the first of what I hope to be many chapters, outlining the interaction between the ZeroOne Digidestined and others who don't know about the Digital World. We all know they mature throughout the season, but I've yet to see a fic really explaining that, and so I decided to stop pondering and grab this inspiration. ^^;; Comments, criticisms, and flames are always welcome. But if your going to flame, at least try to make it constructive? Thanks...  
  
Timeline would be....oh...In the three years between ZeroOne and ZeroTwo.  
  
Disclaimer: It's not mine. I have no money. It's not yours. If it was yours, you could sue me for money I don't have. If it were mine, I'd be making a pile of money off this story, and enough money for you to effectively sue me. Ah, the paradox ^_______^  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
"Takeru, do you know why I kept you after school today?"  
  
"No, sir"  
  
Mr. Tetsuwa leaned back in his desk, wanting to sigh but not allowing himself the humanity: He was a teacher, after all, "Takeru..."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
He brought a hand to his temple, unsure how to begin. There's was something odd about this boy. Something not right...He was nine years old: His birth records, parents, and -looks- confirmed that. But why would a boy, so young, have such a mature stature? Be so...old, even when youthful? "Takaishi...Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"  
  
A quick glance, effectively concealed, save that it was just the sort of thing Tetsuwa was looking for, "No sir...Should there be? Atoki was lying when he said I stole his juice, really he was!"  
  
The teacher almost wanted to chuckle at such a misinterpretation, but he knew the boy was only trying to change the subject, "No, that's not what I meant, Takeru. You're an honest boy. I think there may be something else you need to tell me..."  
  
Things just didn't quite add up. When the children were playing cops-and-robbers, as children were wont to do, Takeru would have no part of it. Little Tomiyo brandished his new, realistic looking squirt gun, and Takeru had gone white with rage. He had slapped the toy out of the other boy's hand, telling him he'd better not bring it to school ever again. He hadn't hurt the Tomiyo, but the apparent anger and fear of anything that /looked/ like a firearm wasn't something a teacher could ignore. And when the eighth grade class had brought in hamsters for study, or when the class had studied bats on Halloween, Takaishi had gotten that look in his eye; that far away, lost-memories look that would happen every so often at a stray comment or dropped word. It belied something more. Tetsuwa knew that these things fit together somehow, but damned if he could figure out how!  
  
He was brought out of his reverie by the child in front of him. "Sir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I said that I can't think of anything, sir..."  
  
"Takeru...Did...Did you ever have a pet?"  
  
And again that flash of maturity, of something so great as to be inexplicable, "N-no, sir..."   
  
Something was not being said here, Tetsuwa knew it, but could think of no way to get the boy to speak.  
  
"Your parents are divorced, yes?"  
  
"Y-yes sir..." That sidelong glance was the first he'd ever seen on a child so young.  
  
"It must have hurt..."  
  
Takeru looked at the floor, scuffing a runner, and quickly wiping away the black streak he'd unwittingly made. "Well, sure, I guess. Me and Matt were both pretty sad about it, at first, but..."  
  
"But?"  
  
"Nothing, sir..."  
  
"But what, Takeru?"  
  
He looked at his teacher then. Really -looked- at him, for the first time. The burden in that child's eyes was heavy, and it spoke of more than just a scraped knee or hurt feelings, "We found out, my brother and me, sir, that there are worse things than divorce..."  
  
Wow..."What sorts of things, Takeru?"  
  
And again, silence. "Nothing you'd understand, sir. Sorry..."  
  
This was something! If anything was happening with the boy like he made it sound, there would be some big trouble very soon. "Takeru, sometimes we need to tell people that we're hurting. You may think I don't understand, but I'm an adult, and adults are a lot better at dealing with problems than children."  
  
The boy stared at him again, but this time it was an extroverted look, not like the last; a look that would haunt Tetsuwa for many years to come. Though his whole stance shouted respect and meek submission, those eyes were anything but. They weren't laughing, not exactly, but they held a bitter humour at a world where children know more than adults, but say less; while the ignorant preach about their knowledge to other idiots, who believe them.  
  
He could think of nothing to say, and so was silent, until it became to much for a person used to the low roar of a classroom, "Takeru...?"  
  
"Sir, I hate to be rude, but mum gets really angry if I'm not home on time, and I don't want to miss the late bus."  
  
"Go on, Takeru." He turned back to his papers, trying to make sense of the whole situation.  
  
"Sir?" Takeru stood, in the doorway, half-in and half-out. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, sir. You seem like a really nice person. But I know you wouldn't believe me. We're not sure we believe it ourselves, and we were there." He smiled then. A smile full of innocence and hope --A normal boy. And then he was gone, out into the sunshine and city to play with his friends.  
  
We...? He was at a total loss, now...Maybe Tetsuwa would talk to his brother...They seemed close. 


	2. Chapter 2 ::Friendship and Betrayal --Ya...

Mr. Taki studied the young man before him. Slouched against the chalkboard, he looked like your average teenager, caught in the throes of youthful angst. However, upon closer inspection, you could see the glint of something akin to rebellion in his ice blue eyes. Whatever it was, it unnerved Mr.Taki, and doubtless many other teachers. The boy's guitar sat in it's case at his feet, laid there carefully with gloved hands. The teacher didn't know where to begin. "You've got a lot of talent, Yamato..."

"What do you want?" The boy turned his glare to Mr.Taki, the hatred in his eyes battling with the apathy.

Mr. Taki shrugged, "Can't a music teacher ask his top student for a chat?"

"You can, but that's not why you asked me." Yamato brushed his hair from his eye, but it fell right back into place. Growing longer now, it had lost it's wild, spiky style, and now looked more shaggy than anything. He continued, "You want to know something, ask it so I can leave."

A hurt look softened the teacher's face, "Ishida-san," he began, reverting to honourifics without quite realizing it, "I'd not known you were so spiteful outside of class. You were never openly friendly, but this is very close to being rude."

Yamato looked away, "I'm sorry." He said, not meaning it at all.

"Anyway, Yamato, is there anything you think you should tell me?"

The boy looked as is he were about to make a scathing replay, but instead bit his lip and said, "No...sir. Nothing I can think of."

Mr. Taki sighed, and bent down to run a hand over Yamato's guitar case. When he reached for the clasps he did not miss the flash of desperation that crossed Yamato's face, and also did not miss how quickly the boy schooled his own emotions. Thoughts on this, he almost missed the small, cloth-wrapped bundle placed carefully under the guitar's neck. "What's this?" He asked, none-too-lightly, fearing the boy was doing drugs. What he found, however, was a small metal harmonica, polished carefully and shining despite the many scratches and dents all over it. The harmonica had been through a lot.

Following an impulse from god-knew-where, Mr.Taki handed the harmonica to Yamato. "Play me something."

Boyish fear took Yamato's face, and this time did not leave quickly. His hands actually shook a little as he took the thing from Mr.Taki, who was so glad to see something natural on Yamato's face that he failed to notice the delicate, almost motherly way he held the small instrument until much, much later.

"Sir..." Yamato's voice actually cracked, "I-I can't..."

"You can. And you will." Mr.Taki said, adopting his stern teacher's tone.

Gasping, Yamato brought the harmonica to his lips. The first few notes were tinny and wavering, but then he slowly closed his eyes and began to really play. Mr.Taki would have been surprised at the level of skill and range the boy had with the tiny thing, had he not been so blown away by the actual music. He found himself comparing the emotion of the melody to Bartok and Tochelli, and was again surprised that he did not feel uncomfortable doing it.

He didn't know how long the song lasted, but as the last three mournful notes died away, and the song ended in a quiet, low trill, Mr. Taki leaned back, knocking his baton off the ledge, where it landed on the guitar strings with a discordant strum. Yamato opened his eyes and glared at the teacher, betrayal now fully apparent. His hands really were shaking now.

"Ya-yamato..." Mr. Taki swallowed, "What happened to you?"

Yamato gave no answer, instead striding to the music case and hiding his head while he packed the harmonica away. Mr. Taki reached out, touching the boys shoulder just slightly, and Yamato whirled, actual tears in his eyes, though none escaped the cage of those wild blue orbs.

"You're-" Mr.Taki was quickly regaining his composure, slipping quietly back in the role of a teacher, "That was unbelievable."

"It was nothing." Yamato replied, voice steady even if he, obviously, was not. "I made it for my brother and a friend a long time ago."

His brother... Mr.Taki wasn't very good at remembering student's profiles, but he seemed to recall that Yamato's parents were divorced, and his brother didn't live with him. Still...

"You don't write something like that for no reason, Yamato. What happened?"

  
  


"You wouldn't understand."

"My parent divorced when I was a boy, you know. Perhaps I can-"

"That's NOT it!" Yamato said, vehement, "Divorce isn't everything. It's not like I can't see my brother anymore. It's not like my parents are gone. It's not like divorce means you're totally cut off from someone you love forever and ever..."

What an outburst! That was more words than Mr.Taki had ever heard Yamato say in the entire year. "You lost someone...? A friend?"

"No." The clasps of the guitar case closed with a definitive click, and Yamato stood, running a hand through his hair, the glove's static causing it to stand up at a bit of a funny angle. Yamato looked completely normal now, but for the betrayal in his glare, "Is that everything, sensei?"

"It's not, Yamato. Not by far." He pointed to the chair beside his desk. "I want to you sit down and tell me whatever the heck happened to you. I can't afford to have unstable students in my class this close to the Festival. I need to know what's going on. Otherwise, I can't let you come."

They stood there for some time, teacher and student locked in a battle of control. Having a lot more, if less desperate, experience in the field, Mr.Taki won, and Yamato sunk into the chair, hands between his legs and eyes downcast.

"Well?"

"You won't believe me..." He mumbled.

"Try me."

There was a pause while Yamato chose the right words to say. Lesser men than Mr.Taki would have realized the boy was leaving much out, but he let him speak it all, waiting patiently.

"We... some friends and I. We went somewhere. We were there for a long time, and it was dangerous. We were almost killed more times than I can count. My brother almost died, too, and so did T- a good friend... There were other friends, too, ones that were close to all of us. When we came home, we had to leave them there. I just miss him, I guess. All of them. Some of them are at school here, but it's not the same. Sharing a fate with someone is like... Well, we had this experience, and now it's over, and that's it."

Biting back a thousand questions, Mr. Taki picked one, "Who is T?"

No answer. "Yamato?"

"T-Taichi, sensei. Yagami Taichi."

"And the others?"

Yamato looked up again, the betrayal plain on his face, as if Mr.Taki were hurting him. "Takenouchi Sora, Tachikawa Mimi, Yagami Hikari, Kido Jyou, Izumi Koushiro, and...and my brother."

"Is that all?"

"No, sir."

"Who else?"

"Please... Please, don't ask me that. I can't tell you."

"Yamato..."

"Please, sir!" The boy sat there as if frightened he would be slapped.

As Mr.Taki thought this through, he said slowly, "Is there any chance you'll have to...go back... to this place? Where is it?"

  
  


"No." The last said softly, "No matter how hard we try..."

"Where did you go?"

The strangest smile passed Yamato's face, "Summer camp, sensei."

"You may go now. Be careful, Yamato."

Nodding, Yamato gathered his things, sniffing quietly when he thought Mr.Taki couldn't hear. The teach stood looking at the music-scrawled blackboard, thinking confusedly. As he heard the click of door opening, he started. "Wait! Yamato. One more thing."

Yamato just looked at him, but did not leave. 

"What's that song called, Yamato?"

Something unreadable entered Yamato then, and he stood as if he really were living in a world fraught with perils and death and the unknown.

  
  


"Friendship and Betrayal."


End file.
